Ocean Blue Eyes
by Ashisinthecloset
Summary: What happens when a new corpsman comes to the field?
1. Prologue

Running, screaming, crying, bleeding, _chaos._ 19 year old Marcel Augustin ran to his twin brother's aid, "Hey," Marcel panted as he gently smacked his brother's cheek, "Hey, Ben. Hey!" his brother, Benjamin, mumbled as his eyes slowly fluttered open showing that he was still alive. Marcel smiled weakly before he pulled out his **IFAK** and began to tend to Ben's wounds.

Benjamin had been shot in the abdomen and chest, a bullet in his liver and a bullet in his left lung, he was bleeding out quickly, "Marcy," he wheezed weakly, "Marcy, I don't think I'm gonna make it, **ma sardine**."

"Just shut up, Ben!" Marcel cried as he tried his best to stop the bleeding, "We're gonna get you outta here, alright?!"

"Ma and pa ain't gonna be too happy to hear that their little girl ran off to fight with a bunch rowdy boys," Ben chuckled weakly, "Try to stay outta trouble while I'm gone, alright?" Ben squeezed Marcel's hand with the strength he had left while Marcel cried and whispered that everything would be alright.

"You know me," Marcel smiled, "I'm trouble incarnate." Marcel gazed into Ben's eyes, they were lifeless, his heart dropped. His chest quivered, bile built up in his throat, his voice trembled as he called for a corpsman, the _bandages_ on _hischest_ were drenched in sweat.

_You may be wondering how Marcel ended up in this mess. You may be questioning, "Is this person a girl or a boy?" It's best if we started this story from the very beginning.__ It started on that fateful 7th of December, 1941, the Augustin twins enlisted into the **USMC**. Benjamin was sent out to the front while Marcel had to stay behind... Little did he know that dearest twin had other plans..._

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**Author's notes/Cultural notes/translations:**

**IFAK- Individual First Aid Kit.**

**Ma sardine- it's french for "my sardine", don't ask. It's supposed to be a term of endearment. Fun fact, posessive pronouns ending with 'a' refers to a feminine subject.**

**USMC- the acronym for United States Marine Corps.**


	2. Saint Augustin

**Duson, ****Louisiana, December 8th, 1941.**

**_12/8/1941_**

_It's been 24 hours since Pearl Harbor was attacked, both me and Benjamin enlisted in the marine corps- although he gets to see the front while I stay behind until needed- ma and pop are relieved to hear that I won't be seeing any of the fighting. I don't understand them sometimes- Benny said it's because they're worried and because we're twins they'd sleep better at night knowing that at least **one** of the twins isn't rotting in a foxhole on some island._

_I have a plan though. I'm thinking of sneaking into the ship going straight for Guadalcanal, it's a foolish idea but I'm doing it anyways!_

_-Regards from Marcel Anais Augustin._

And with that, Marcel ended the journal entry. A sigh left the youth's lips as he closed the leather bound book sitting in his lap, it was now 1:00 pm- the time difference between Duson, Louisiana and Pearl Harbor was five hours. It was 8AM in Pearl Harbor- the afternoon was chilled by the December air, it was about 55F outside, luckily Marcel had a warm sweater on. The boy's ocean blue eyes gazed up at the leaves of the oak tree he sat beneath, his silky messed up hair was a mix between an inky black and a pure ebony sea- it resembled a midnight sky.

"Marcy!" Benjamin called from the distance, Marcel's head shot up in his brother's direction, "Don't go anywhere! I'm gonna head over!" Benjamin waved excitedly before hopping on his bike and pedaling towards his twin. Marcel smiled softly amd waited for his brother, it wasn't much of a wait though.

"Hey." Ben smiled as he leaned his bike agaisnt the tree.

"Hey," Marcel replied warmly as he got to his feet, "What's up?" by the large smile on Ben's face, Marcel could tell that something good happened.

"I'm shippin out to Philly in two weeks," Ben showed his brother the papers he got from the Corps, "I was so excited to hear the news, I had to go and find you- couldn't wait for you to get home to tell ya." Marcel shook his head and chuckled softly until he saw his brother's smile fade. Ben would be shipped out before Christmas- most of the marines would be- but since Marcel was in the USMC Reserve, he'd be staying.

"Well," Marcel chirped as his arms flopped, "Best of luck to you, don't you go dyin on me now. Okay?" Ben smiled weakly and gave his brother a pat on the shoulder. Ben was proud of how far the two of them have come starting from the 5th of June 1922 to now. Either fighting for being the favorite child, fighting over toys, dealing with being right smack in the middle of their family of 6- that's right, there were 4 children in the family. There was Rose who was 23; she was the oldest, then there were the twins, and then Charlie. Charlie was only 4- and now the two of them would be sent to war.

"Right," Ben broke the silence, "Now, since I'm going to be gone fightin Japs, you best stay outta trouble ya hear?"

"Ugh," Marcel groaned, "I swear on my life..."

"No playin around with girls and boys either."

"Same goes for you!" Marcel slugged his brother in the shoulder playfully. This was moment in time was a memory that could _never _be replaced...

"Race ya home!" Benjamin beamed as he hopped onto his bike.

"Hey, no fair!" Marcel stumbled after him, dragging his bike along to catch up with his brother, "You got a head start!"

**Months later...**

_1/30/1942__, time is 1130_

_It's been a few weeks of training with the marines, Benny is somewhere in Philly right now, I'm going to forge an identification document to sneak in- it'll take about 3 to 4 months to make, but I can wait- I still need to do something about my uniform though, maybe I can find something?_

_-Regards Marcel Anais Augustin_

"Augustin!" an **NCO** yelled, "Get these boxes to the uniform department!"

"Yes ma'am!" Marcel jumped to his feet and quickly slid his journal away into his satchel before scurrying away to make his deliveries. The boy tossed on his helmet and grabbed the boxes, he placed them in the the trunk of his red **Salisbury 85 standard Imperial Rocket scooter**, zipped up his leather aviator jacket and then adjusted his goggles. The vehicle roared to life and then he was off...

The late winter breeze flowed through his dark hair and nipped at his nose and cheeks, Marcel passed by Old Man Wright- he was a usual at the cafe Marcel worked part time at- the boy smiled cordially with a nod, "Good morning, Mr. Wright!" the boy chimed.

"Ah, Marcel!" the elderly gentleman exclaimed cheerfully, "Off to cause some trouble, I see?"

"Not at the moment, but later today maybe!" Marcel chuckled before waving and turning the corner. The uniform department was five miles from Marcel's office, he had about 4.5 miles to go.

The collar of the boy's jacket fluttered in the wind, the sunlight reflected off of the tinted lenses of his **evomosa aviator goggles**, his heart raced as he made a sharp left turn only to quickly slam his foot on the brakes, "Jesus fuck-!" his helmet slipped out of position, "Ya gotta be careful when crossing the street little fella." he sighed and shook his head at a black cat that stood in the middle of the street. The creature meowed at the boy before it jumped away, Marcel chuckled and readjusted his helmet before driving off.

When he arrived at his destination he energetically hopped off his scooter, snatched up the boxes and headed inside. "Delivery for you ladies and gents!" he chimed, "Where do you want 'em, Chère?" he asked a young blonde woman sitting behind a desk.

"Right there in that back storage closet would be nice dear," the woman replied sweetly, "O-oh... If that isn't too much trouble, Marcy..." the woman smiled sheepishly, batting her lashes in Marcel's direction.

"No trouble at all, Chelle," the boy grinned as he walked past, "This closet right here?"

"Yes, that one right there. Thank you, Marcel! Oh, you're a saint!" Marcel blushed at this comment before walking into the closet and out of sight. He set the boxes down, before he turned to leave he noticed a small uniform hanging in the corner- just his size too!

The boy quickly, but neatly, folded up the uniform and shoved it in his bag, "See you soon guys," Marcel beamed as he headed for the exit, "Oh, and bye Chère." he kissed Chelle's cheek before heading out and hopping onto his scooter.

**Author's notes/translation notes:**

**A Salisbury 85 standard Imperial Rocket scooter is a popular scooter from the 40s.**

**evomosa aviator goggles- his grandfather was in WWI, he got these goggles from him.**

**NCO- Non Commissioned Officer, like a sergeant.**


	3. No Turning Back

Marcel's red scooter buzzed down the street, his mind racing all the way back to the office. Once he got back and parked his scooter he was instantly yelled at, "AUGUSTIN!" his NCO yelled which caused the boy to jump, "You got some new enlistees to attend to."

"Y-yes ma'am," he muttered, "I'll take care of that right away." and with that he shuffled off, his NCO shaking her head with a smile. Marcel burst through the door panting, his face red with exhaustion and excitement- to meet the new recruits and enlistees that is- a bright smile plastered on his face. The new recruits and enlistees were frightened and surprised at first, who wouldn't be if they came across a hyper marine?

"Hiya!" Marcel chirped, "I'm **PVT. **Marcel Augustin." Marcel was scolded for this 'childish' greeting, the NCO ordered him to get on with it and he quickly did. The boy showed the new recruits around, he switched between walking normally and walking backwards- concerning everyone in the office- always with a bright smile.

**4 Months later...**

_5/8/1__942__, 0115_

_This is the day, everything is packed and I left a note underneath my pillow for ma and pa to find, I'm off to Philadelphia. Hopefully I'll find Ben, it'll take about two days to drive there... Good thing I have my scooter and some money!_

_-Regards Marcel Anais Augustin._

Marcel quickly closed his journal and shoved it away into his satchel, "Here we go," he breathed softly as he slid his goggles on, revving his scooter engine, "No turning back, Marcy, _no turning back..._" he released the brakes and was gone with the wind...

The town was silent, the only sound that could be heard within a mile radius was the red scooter. The early morning sky was littered with stars, no clouds in sight, Marcel was accustomed to sneaking around in the dark- you learn a few useful skills when competing to be the parents' favorite- his headlamp was on its lowest beam in order to keep his presence concealed. Silent prayers shot through his head when he passed the sign that read "Come back soon!" at the edge of the town. Marcel bit the inside of his cheek, his destination for the day was North Carolina.

**Philadelphia, Pennsylvania****. 0220**

Benjamin was helping move boxes and crates into the ships, unaware of Marcel's actions. He _knew _that Marcel wanted to sneak into platoon but he advised his brother not to. "Benny!" a voice called out, Ben turned on his heels and saw a friend of his. "Need a hand?"

"That would be nice," Benjamin smiled politely, "Thank you, Leckie." the man, Leckie, nodded with a smile. The two of them chatted jovially and loudly- as marine boys tend to do- they talked about their lives back at home. Ben mentioned his family, his sister and brother and his twin, Marcel.

"Marcy's in the Corps as well," Ben smiled, "But won't be seeing the front anytime soon, our parents are relieved that only _one _of us has to see war..." Leckie's face fell as silence consuned the both of them.

"What about you?" Ben quickly changed the topic, "You got a girl back at home?"

"Oh," Leckie chuckled, "Kind of? It's not official, but we have been friends since childhood." Ben smiled in delight before he began to tease his friend. Soon the conversation was focused on the war, about their worries and fears, and what they'd do when the war was over- if there ever was an end.

Benjamin had noticed something, most of the enlisted marines were southerners; some from Mississippi, Arkansas, Texas, Louisiana, Georgia and others. By the time half of the crates were loaded up, it was 0400 in the morning, time for PT...

**Author notes/Translations: ****PVT- Private****_So im going to be taking a break from writing for a while, i just dont have ideas or motivation... im sorry guys, idk when i will be back._**


	4. Blueberry Pancakes

**May 8, 1942. New Orleans, Louisiana, 0330**

Marcel glanced out across the horizon, the sun wouldn't rise until around 0611 and he had a long way to go, about 11 hours to get to Charlotte, North Carolina. His tank was almost empty _again..._ The next gas station wasn't until the next five miles, Marcel didn't think he had enough to make it that far, "Jesus," he groaned, "I'm gonna have to walk to the gas stop if this damn thing stops." He yawned softly, oblivious to the sputtering coming from the engine of his scooter...

**Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. May 8, 1942, 0430**

A **gunnery sergeant** was belting orders as marines ran and did the obstacle course during **PT**, Benjamin's body wobbled to and fro as he clambered up the climbing net. Another marine on either side of him. Once he got to the top he launched himself down into the dirt, his cheek pressed tightly against the earth.

"GET YOUR ASS BACK UP, AUGUSTIN!" the **GySgt. **screamed at the boy, "IF THIS WERE THE BATTLEFIELD, YOU'D BE DEAD BY NOW!" Ben stumbled up to his feet and continued running the course. His knees were bruised and scraped, sweat ran down his forehead, he had a few more meters to go until he finished. As Leckie ran past him he gave the boy a soft pat on the shoulder with a small smile before running ahead. Ben was determined to finish.

Ten minutes later, Ben finally finished the course at an average time of 13 minutes. He watched as the others began filing into their formations, sunrise wasn't until around 0552, he wished he could sleep in...

**New Orleans, Louisiana, 0352**

The red scooter sat on its side hidden behind bushes, helmet marking its location, its driver absent, Marcel roamed the empty roads. The little red scooter lasted 2 miles before it finally gave in, it was around 80 degrees Fahrenheit that morning; in Louisiana the weather during May felt like hell. There was a gentle breeze weaving its way through the boy's choppy hair. Marcel stared up into the sky, reflections of clouds painted his irises, he yawned as he continued to walk, "Gotta stay awake..." he mumbled as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, "Gotta... Get to Charlotte..." he felt his body starting to slow down with exhaustion, he hasn't slept in days.

_What could go wrong if I closed my eyes for five minutes?_ He thought to himself, and oh how pleasing was this thought. He felt his eyelids fall over his eyes, he stopped right there to rest for a couple of minutes...

"...Son...?" a distorted voice echoed in Marcel's ears, "Son, are you alright?" Marcel felt the slightest touch on his shoulder, he mumbled softly as his eyes fluttered open slowly. As his vision began to readjust, he noticed the faint outline of a man hunched over. The boy's vision began to focus on details; facial features, age, eye color, clean shaven. The man looked to be in his early 50s, dull orange hair dusted with silver.

"Son?" The man asked again, "Can you hear me?"

"Y-yeah," Marcel croaked, "I-I'm fine." He glanced around, the sun seemed to be rising, how long had he been out? The man continued to ask if the boy was alright, if he had any family, if he was in trouble. Marcel reassured the man that everything was fine, except his scooter, and he needed any help.

"I just need to get two gallons of gasoline and then I'll be on my way." Marcel smiled.

"Ya need a ride, son?" The man asked.

"Uh..." the boy hesitated, before he could refuse his stomach grumbled softly and his face flushed pink. The man chuckled.

"C'mon," the man gestured to the passenger side of his truck, "I'm headin to the gas station anyway, let's get ya somethin to eat."

"Th-thank you, sir."

\--

Marcel was on the road again, he shyly stared out the window of the truck as thoughts of his brother drifted through his mind. "Ya got any family, son?" the man asked, causing Marcel to jolt softly. The boy nodded softly. "Do they know where you are?"

"U-uh, no, sir..." Marcel looked down at his lap shamefully, "I left a note though..." the man nodded without another word on the topic.

"Why did you run away?" the man asked, "Just curious..." Marcel began explaining his situation and how he and his brother both enlisted, although he had to stay behind.

"That's it," the boy sighed, "That's why I left home." there was silence filling the space of the vehicle, the truck kept on driving until after two minutes. They stopped at the gas station, the engine turned off.

"What would you like?" The man turned to Marcel, "I'll pay for breakfast."

"Blueberry pancakes please?"

**Author notes:**

**Gunnery Sergeant- **a rank of NCOs in the USMC, between staff sergeant and master sergeant.

**PT- **physical training

**GySgt.- **Gunnery sergeant.


End file.
